Cruhteo Sibling Shenanigans
by ryoku1
Summary: A series of oneshots set in a modern college setting, where Klancain and Slaine are adopted siblings living together.
1. Magic

AN: This one is a gift for Anna and Victoria!

So I said I would do it, and here it is. Welcome to my new series of oneshots? Because I love siblings, and domestic fluff is cute, and I think Slaine and Klancain would be amusing siblings? Yeah. That's it. This is KIND OF, an off shoot of my other fic There's A Weight In Your Eyes, but also not really. The setting is similar, but these two projects will have nothing to do with one another otherwise, since that AU is technologically way advanced and this one is not. It's just amusing domestic modern things. That's it. The prompts for this part were Magic and Vegetables. Also, oh my goodness why is there no Klancain tag!?

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"So if you could have any magical power, what would it be?"

He had just watched (more like sat through on his part) one of the Harry Potter movies. All on the insistence of his older brother; because Slaine had said, dramatically 'No brother of mine is going to live one more day without seeing a Harry Potter movie!' and had all but shoved him to the couch. Klancain wasn't even sure which one they'd watched. He had enough knowledge to know that there were many of them, and that they were all about Harry Scarface Potter, but he didn't know, nor cared to know much other than that. Slaine liked it, and sometimes, he indulged his older brother in the strangest of things.

"Excuse me?" He looked over at Slaine critically.

Slaine looked away as if it had been a dumb question, and scratched the back of his neck. One of many nervous habits. The next statement would either be a dismissal of the question, or a mumbled reiteration.

"Ah, never mind..." Obviously it was the dismissal.

Klancain let his eyes stay on Slaine for a few moments before shaking his head. "Slaine, I am in no way diminishing your feelings or thinking little of your interests-" he did, a little, but not enough for his highly sensitive older brother to take seriously. "I simply didn't hear you."

"Oh." Slaine stated, as if he knew very well it was a ruse, but chose to give Klancain the benefit of the doubt. "I said, if you could have any magical power, what would it be?"

The only problem with humoring his brother, was that he would actually have to answer the question. Klancain scrunched up his face in thought. When he'd thought of it for a few moments, he shrugged his shoulders. "What about you?"

Slaine averted his eyes. As Klancain suspected, he was embarrassed by whatever conclusion he'd come to. "Y-you answer first." Slaine finally mumbled.

Klancain shook his head. "So you can steal mine? No way, out with it. You already know what you'd want."

Slaine scrunched up his face, and looked at Klancain seriously. "Okay, but no laughing!" Klancain made no such promise, only raised one eyebrow inquisitively. Slaine waited for a while, obviously hoping that Klancain would give him the intended promise, but as it was not forth coming, he scowled, blushed, and just blurted it out. "I'd like to be able to make plants bloom."

Klancain laughed. Loudly. Slaine glared, and got up from the couch to leave, when Klancain called for him to come back. "Slaine, Slaine! Sorry, but, really!? Of all the magic you could have, you'd want to make FLOWERS bloom? You can do that without magic!"

Slaine shot him a glare, but the red on his face was unmistakable. "I didn't say JUST flowers, I said plants! And I'll have you know making plants bloom is hard work! You'd know that if you did any work around here."

Klancain shook his head and waved his hands dismissively. "All the plants are your business; I've never bought a single one." Then he sputtered again. "I can just see you as one of those Disney woodland fairy things, with wings and a skimpy outfit, or without a shirt, sprinkling around spring with magic pixie dust or something!" He laughed, unable to contain his amusement at the image.

Slaine huffed indignantly. "You never take anything seriously! If I had that sort of power, I could seriously solve the world's hunger problems! I was being serious!"

Klancain stopped rolling in laughter, but he was still chuckling. "You definitely knew what I'd think when you said that." He snickered again. "But, for just a second-" he snickered "- let's imagine I actually take your magical plant powers seriously. It isn't like you being able to make plants bloom is just going to magically fix humanities problems. If you do that, then people will just have more kids, and you'll make the overpopulation problem worse." The look Slaine gave him was sullen. "Admit it Slaine, you just want your roses to bloom for longer."

Slaine scowled at him. "I will not admit it. I seriously think it would be good for people! And what would be your amazing wonderful magic powers, since you're still laughing yourself silly about mine!"

Klancain felt at his cheeks a bit, because they were quite sore from all his laughing, and shrugged. "I guess to see the future."

Slaine looked at him, and nodded his head slightly, obviously thinking about the response seriously. "That would be useful. You'd know when there would be a natural disaster, and you could help people that way."

Klancain shook his head. "No, I would know what to invest in the stock market, and if mom is going to like her birthday gift or not. Oh, and I'd know when you're going to do something stupid, and I'd stop you."

Slaine glared. "You're such a brat."

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AN: Uh, I'll take one word prompts? No promises though!


	2. Laundry

"What do you mean you aren't going to class because you didn't do laundry?" Klancain asked incredulously, knowing very well that the muffled response he was receiving could be nothing but mumbled nonsense.

His older brother moaned piteously from inside the fluffy confines of his comforter. Klancain narrowed his eyes, and took two strides into the room. "Slaine, moaning is not a proper answer when someone is asking you a question."

The muffled whine from under the covers was in no way an improvement. Klancain scrunched up his lips, and in one swift movement reached down for the fluffy blue comforter, and yanked if off the bed.

It was as he had suspected. Slaine lay amidst four different text books, all in various states of use, with scribbled on papers scattered around, and a variety of pens, pencils, and highlighters littered around the bed. To the side was a bag of cookies, that had been long emptied, and the very, very soft hum of Slaine's music player could be heard if he focused on it over the aggravated, beached whale noises his brother was making. He tossed the comforter aside, and swatted at his older brother, whose hair was everywhere, and whose glasses were noticeably absent. "Get up; you're going to that test. Clean laundry or not."

"Nooooo" Slaine groaned, as he scrunched his eyes closed, and reached blindly out for his pillow. Just as his hand reached it, Klancain snatched it away, and tossed it to the other end of the room with the comforter. Two bleary eyes peered up at him, before closing again and hiding in the folds of the sheets. "Leave me to die..."

"You are being melodramatic, Slaine." Klancain poked Slaine's shoulder unsympathetically. When that didn't work, he poked at his stomach, which prompted his older brother to cover it, and turn his back. "Get up, Slaine."

Slaine whined again. "But I really don't have clean clothes. I was supposed to do it yesterday and I forgot." Slaine waved his hand erratically, without really looking at what he was waving at. "Just like I forgot everything in these books."

Klancain rolled his eyes. "Slaine, come on get u-" He took one step forward, and something underneath him rolled. He looked down and scowled. "Is that a can of red bull?" He examined the floor for a few more seconds before his eyebrows shot up. "Is that Three, cans of red bull!? Slaine!"

His older brother groaned again, and mumbled something incoherent about poor judgment. Slaine shifted, so that he could look over at Klancain, before finally opening bloodshot eyes, and stared off into the distance. "Why didn't I take art? I could be painting right now, instead of this." Slaine motioned around him, but the action only looked comical, since his head stayed firmly plastered to the bed, as his arms flapped around childishly.

"If you do not get up in five minutes, I am taking the peanut butter to your hair, and Tharsis will have her way with you." At the sound of her name, they heard a whistle from down the hall that sounded suspiciously like the theme from Jaws. Klancain was secretly very pleased that he had taught the bird to sing that almost every time he said 'have her way with you'. Other than the very obvious instance of amusement, it also brought about some interesting circumstances regarding their mother.

"At least Tharsis loves me enough to let me drown in my misery," Slaine continued to whine. He lifted his head a little off of the mattress, and glared over at Klancain. "Do you even know how much sleep I got last night?"

Klancain shook his head, and smirked, before leaning in ominously. "She loves peanut butter, more." Klancain threatened.

Slaine lazily blinked his eyes, and pouted. "You're evil."

Klancain shrugged. "It runs in the family. Now up, before I start the 'Cruhteo Honor!' monologue. It'll sound so much like father you'll be out of that bed in five seconds and running out of the house."

Slaine mumbled and grumbled and tossed and turned, but he was actually out of the bed in five seconds, swollen eyes, and chewed on lip, and bed head included. "I never actually heard the 'Cruhteo Honor' speech." he mumbled, still half asleep.

"The way you're going, father will nail you to the wall when he sees a zero on your exam, forget about honor." Klancain then moved around behind Slaine and shoved him forward unceremoniously, and kept pushing. All Slaine could do was protest and be pushed along.

"What are you-?"

"My room." Klancain stated, cutting off Slaine's garbled words. "Where there is suitable clothing for even you to look presentable."

Slaine rolled his head around in mock agony. "Noooooo, all of your clothes smell like bad cologne! You practically bathe in it. I'll smell like you for weeks!"

Klancain stopped pushing for half a second, before redoubling his efforts, and getting an unmanly squeak out of Slaine. "It's better than your girly flower fragrances!"

"Roses are not girly!"

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AN: As with the last time, one word prompts are cool. You can send em my way if ya like.


	3. Baby

AN: For Pokematic7. Thank you for the prompt! I might try this prompt again, since this ended up being rather heavy, and I could totally do something much cuter with this prompt. But, for now, this is what I have.

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They were sitting down at dinner one night, after Slaine had made something particularly fancy, when he felt it was the proper time to ask his younger brother, what he had already suspected.

The question, was how to go about it. Ideally, Slaine preferred to wait, and let Klancain tell him these things on his own, but it had been three months, and he had already waited patiently. Slaine was tired of waiting, he was the older brother, damnit. Not that it did much for him, since Klancain was an actual Cruhteo, and he was very much adopted, but still. He was older, and it was rightfully insulting that Klancain HADN'T told him yet. He was also positive that their mother knew, and he officially didn't.

The thought didn't make him seethe, but it made him want to. He angled an unassuming look over at Klancain, as he ate, and Slaine decided that if he was going to say it at all, he'd better just say it. "Klancain-" Blue eyes looked up at him with mild interest, and as usual, what Slaine was going to say died a violent death before reaching his lips. What he ended up saying instead, was not adequate at all. "H-how are you? Today? Uh..."

Klancain raised one eyebrow at him. "That didn't come out right, did it?"

Slaine glared at him, and resumed eating his dinner. He'd have to find another plan of attack. But, he reminded himself, he'd been dropping hints for weeks now, and Klancain had refused to take the hint and just admit it. "So how-" Klancain looked up at him again, and he flushed in indignation, before shoving another fork full of food into his mouth.

This was not fair. This was not fair at all. Slaine started mumbling to himself in irritation, when Klancain sighed dramatically, and rolled his eyes. "Slaine, what?"

The tone was far too similar to Mr. Cruhteo for Slaine to do much protesting, but that didn't mean he said what he meant either. "I-I Uh, I mean, Nothing- Ah Did you- I, well, as your b-"

"Slaine!"

"Did you knock up Asseylum!?" The second it was out of his mouth, it felt like every drop of blood in his body rushed to his head, and Slaine clamped both hands over his mouth. He watched Klancain in wide eyed horror, as a sudden blush came to his younger brother's face, and Slaine had to avert his eyes. They had! He knew it! Oh god he shouldn't have asked!

Then, Klancain was laughing, and Slaine looked up at him in abject horror, his hands falling away from his face, and going slack. "Klancain! Stop that this instant! This is not funny!" He banged his fist on the table to get Klancain's attention, but it didn't work. His younger brother just kept laughing. Slaine stood from his chair and stomped over to Klancain, his eyes heavy. "Klancain, you stop that right now!"

Around his wheezing, his younger brother waved his hands, trying to placate Slaine. "It-its not what you think, Slaine." He chuckled a few more times, trying to catch his breath, before turning to face Slaine, who was standing ominously beside him, his fists balled and obviously ready for a fight. Klancain still looked very amused. "No, no Slaine, I did not-" Klancain giggled- "knock up your best friend."

Slaine frowned down at Klancain, but he could slowly feel the tension easing out of him. In its place was the usual meekness that was the corner stone of his strange little existence. He had to get a few words in before that aggression was completely gone. "She's your girlfriend." It wasn't much of a statement, but he'd said it.

Klancain looked up at him, and smiled, and it was a kind smile. "She isn't pregnant."

Whatever hostility in him drained right out, and he was once again fidgeting and unable to look over at Klancain. "T-that baby book.." he said lamely, cause that had been the start of this whole thing. A cute little pastel book about babies and pregnancy, sitting on their coffee table three months ago. He'd looked at it in abject horror, and scurried away as fast as he could. It hadn't been there when he got back, but had instead found a permanent home in their hallway book case, where it's pink and blue spine had looked at him ominously every time he'd wandered past it. He'd taken to the habit of traveling the hallway with the lights off, but it only caused some painful incidents with his toes, because Klancain NEVER put anything away.

Klancain shook his head. "Mother. She's getting anxious for some grandchildren. Every time I talk to her, she rambles about how father didn't know what to do when he was my age, and how with my genes I need all the parenting help I can get. She mailed it here."

He thought about that for a few seconds, and realized he couldn't picture Mr. Cruhteo and mother ever actually having a child. Mr. Cruhteo was never around, and when he was, he was stern, and distant. Mother was better now, but he didn't remember her being very motherly earlier in his life, but he supposed she'd always carried that same glint in her eye that he saw in Klancain's all the time. "Oh" Slaine said, and dejectedly stumbled back to his chair to sit down.

He could feel Klancain's eyes on him, but Slaine's mind was somewhere far away. He looked down at his food, how he hadn't eaten very much, but really wasn't hungry anymore. "Slaine, is that why you've been asking about Asseylum so much lately? Did you really think I was going to have a baby?"

Slaine didn't trust himself to answer, so he shrugged one shoulder dismissively. He could tell that Klancain was looking at him, but he couldn't bring himself to look up at his younger brother. "Slaine, if Asseylum and I were going to have a baby, you would have been the first to know."

Slaine shook his head. "No, mother would. She should know first, she does want grandchildren." He reached down for his fork, and tried to eat some more. He was an adult now, so that meant he should eat, even if he didn't want to. Ironically, it also meant he didn't HAVE to eat, but he ignored that thought.

"Slaine," Klancain had that tone in his voice. The tone that said he was probably being irrational, and should stop. Well, it didn't really say that. If he was being honest, it probably meant Klancain was concerned, and didn't understand why he was unhappy, but Slaine wanted to be anything but honest at that moment.

He spared a glace in Klancain's direction, and gave what he hoped was a sheepish smile, before averting his eyes. "Sorry for jumping to conclusions."

"And?"

Slaine narrowed his eyes, and tried to make it look like he was pouting. "And for getting mad at you."

"And?"

Klancain needed to drop this. Just let the situation go, because he'd already apologized. "And for thinking that you wouldn't tell me."

"And?"

Slaine swallowed, his fingers suddenly tense, and his anger slowly coming back to him. He was actually proud that he kept his voice as even as he did. "For thinking that you'd knock up Asseylum."

"And?"

Slaine slammed his hands on the table, and stood. He was done with this game Klancain was playing. "And for thinking that if mother wanted a grandchild she'd come to me first since I'm two years older than you! As if I needed more reminding that I don't actually belong in this family." He caught one quick look at Klancain's surprised face, before it turned impassive, but that was alright. His feet were already pounding toward the door. He needed out and away.

Klancain didn't stop him.

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The library was his go to place when he was upset. There was something about rows and rows of books, of people coming and going, of things leaving, but being returned, that had always made libraries a place where he sought sanctuary. This had developed long before the Cruhteo had been added to his name, back when staying home meant his father stayed in his study, and didn't come out. The first place he'd always found, even before markets, when they'd move, had always been libraries.

But, that also meant that Klancain knew that's where he'd be, and Slaine did not want to be found. Even still, it was only half way to the library, that he realized he shouldn't go there. Instead he doubled back. and went to the aquarium. There was a nice bench by the jelly fish exhibits. It was dark, and the only light was the beautiful deep glow of the water and the brilliant light of the jellyfish. It was calming, and it was a Tuesday, so no one would be there. The thought of a nice place where he could just sit and listen to water, and watch deadly animals through thick glass as old couples wandered by hand in hand, was really quite nice.

That was, until he got to the aquarium, and realized he'd left his wallet, and all the money it contained.

He ended up going to the library anyway, but not the normal library. The library across town, because physical activity was good for him, and biking had always been a nice way to relieve stress. Annoyingly, he had just locked his bike in the bike rack, as Klancain's car drove up. He wanted to scream, but instead hurried into the library, where they'd at least get in trouble for their arguing.

He was already into the science fiction section when he heard the library doors open behind him, and he sped up without trying to show it. He saw the handmade paper sign that hung over the 'Quiet Reading Room' of the library, and dashed inside.

Slaine took a seat in a plush arm chair, and reached over to the small side table, where a few magazines and a romance novel sat. After looking over his choices, he angled a sideways glance at his brother through the glass of the room, and saw that Klancain had taken an opposing seat, glaring at him. Slaine scowled back, and grabbed the romance novel. He was going to be there for a while.

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Several hours later the librarians kicked them out at closing time. It had been many texts later on Klancain's part, which Slaine watched with amusement because he'd left his phone at home. Many very badly written chapters of romance later, because suffering through it was far more enjoyable than dealing with Klancain. Not that it mattered, cause once they'd been kicked out, they'd both cooled down enough to not yell at each other.

Klancain motioned towards his car, and Slaine nodded in resignation. He unlocked his bike, wheeled it over to the car and hoisted it onto the bike rack on the back. He then slipped into the passenger's seat, and they drove away in silence.

He wasn't angry or upset, and he could tell Klancain wasn't either, but that didn't make the situation any easier to deal with. Slaine made a point of looking out the window, and keeping the window down. Klancain preferred the windows to always be up, but in that instant, he didn't roll them up like he usually did. Slaine felt he should say thank you for that, but the words never made it to his lips.

On the way home, Klancain stopped off at a fast food place, and went through the drive through. Slaine let himself be spiteful that Klancain didn't even ask what he wanted, that was until Klancain just ordered everything he liked on the menu, without missing a single thing. It was way too much food, but it was a rather typical display of Cruhteo extravagance. Slaine also admitted that it was also a display of attentiveness. Klancain knew everything he'd ever liked at this dumb fast food place. He told himself not to be swayed, but it was too much work, especially when Klancain unceremoniously handed him an ice cream cone with crumpled up reeses sprinkled on top. He dutifully ate it, since it would be a waste not to.

"Dinner was delicious." Klancain stated simply, as the car sped back to the house. He thought he felt Klancain look over at him for a second, but when he gave his younger brother a sideways glance, Klancain was looking at the road.

Slaine continued to eat his ice cream, and shrugged. When the silence dragged out between them, and it became obvious Slaine wasn't going to say anything, Klancain spoke again. "I did the dishes." It was sort of an unspoken rule that Slaine did all of the house work. Not really ALL of it, but most of it. Cooking and dishes were two of the many things on his chore list.

"You didn't need to." Slaine stated lamely.

"We can talk to mother if you want."

"I don't want to." He knew he should have said something else, but as the statement escaped his lips, Slaine realized he didn't regret it. He regretted the sudden intake of breath that Klancain took, he regretted that he'd lost his temper and they were even having this discussion, but now that they were having this discussion, he wasn't going to take the statement back, or regret it. There was no way either of them were ever bringing this up with either of their parents.

They stayed in silence for a while. Slaine finished his ice cream, and moved onto munching on fries out of the bag in his lap. "Slaine, I can't fix them."

Slaine finished chewing the fry he was eating, and rolled up the window. "I know."

"You're _my_ older brother." Klancain stated clearly, and looked over at him. Slaine was able to meet his eyes for a few seconds, before looking away.

Slaine smiled. "I know that too."


	4. Tea

"What is this?" Slaine asked inquisitively looking at the neatly wrapped presents in front of him, with decorative tags with his name on them. Klancain shrugged, as if he had no idea at all, but that mischievous glimmer in his eye was plenty of evidence that he absolutely knew what it was. Slaine frowned.

It wasn't his birthday, it hadn't been any major holiday, and he certainly hadn't done anything spectacular to deserve gifts. It was very mysterious, and it almost felt like Klancain was playing a joke on him or something. Especially since the glistening packages were wrapped. Klancain couldn't wrap presents to save his life. He'd tried a few times when he'd been young, before bribing Slaine to do it. Even to this day, he hadn't taken the time to learn, he always paid someone else to do it. It didn't make any sense for Klancain to give him something wrapped out of the blue.

He kept scrutinizing the packages, until Klancain rolled his eyes in an overly exaggerated manner, and pushed one of the larger packages towards him. "Stop looking at me like they're going to explode and open them!"

Slaine gave him one more distrustful look, and then gingerly started unwrapping the large package. Once he'd unwrapped it, he sat there blinking at it for a long time. In front of him sat a small foldable easel. After a while of just looking at the thing blankly, Slaine looked up at Klancain. "Is this a joke of some sort?"

Klancain looked incredulous, but shook his head. "No, to the best of my knowledge, it isn't." Slaine looked at him for a while longer, not sure if he believed the statement, before looking back down at the foldable easel in confusion.

After a few more moments of uncomfortable silence, Klancain finally spoke. "It's father. He seems to have, to quote it "Discovered his latent artistic talents" and wants to spread the joy that is art." Slaine said nothing, just kept blinking over at him. Klancain faltered for a few moments, covering his mouth with his hand in embarrassment. "Mom says that one of his co-workers just had a baby, and that he's been showing around his sons finger paintings. She said he got a little sentimental, and went through baby stuff, only to find that he didn't have a single thing you'd ever made for him."

The confused look on Slaine's face got even more intense. "Because I didn't. He adopted me when I was 13. It sort of isn't the age for cute arts and crafts anymore."

Klancain looked to the side sheepishly. "Well, he intends to have that fixed." He looked back over at Slaine. "I think he wants you to paint him things. He called me and asked if this was something you'd like. I told him probably not, but obviously he didn't listen to me at all. Mom says he's been trying to call you for a few days to ask the same thing about me."

"But I lost my phone." Slaine supplied absentmindedly, looking down at the gift.

Klancain nodded. "He tried calling here a few times, but I always answered, so he quickly played it off as if he hadn't called to talk to you. When he does get through, please tell him something reasonable." The absurdity of the situation was still to baffling for him, and Slaine had yet to really comprehend the situation. So when Klancain clapped him on the shoulder, and told him to open the rest of them, he did just that.

A few minutes later, he had uncovered a set of expensive acrylic paints, a few tutorial books, a card that had obviously been picked by their mother (it said something about 'latent talents' and had flowy script, and screamed 'mom card') six canvases and an impressive spread of brushes to chose from. He almost hesitated to grab at the last gift, but what was the harm in it? He was already in the twilight zone, how could it get any worse?

When he finally unwrapped the last one, Klancain came up behind him, and Slaine could almost feel that he was excited. It was a rare thing; Klancain wasn't usually so obvious about his emotions. It was a large, hardback book, and instead of being about painting, or art, or anything like that, it was completely different.

"Blending your own signature Teas for Beginners." Slaine read aloud, looking at the book inquisitively. He looked over at Klancain and smiled at how happy he looked. "Did you suggest this?"

Klancain shrugged one shoulder, but obviously looked quite pleased with himself. "Father didn't like the idea much. He really has his heart set on getting you to paint him something, but I told him you'd probably like something like this better."

Slaine looked back down at the book, and flipped through a few of the pages. He was surprised, though, really he shouldn't have been. Klancain knew him pretty well. Well enough to know that he came home with different teas for every season, and that if there was ever any new teas at the super market, he always tried them out. Klancain had also been buying him very expensive teas that he wouldn't spend his own money on for a few years now every time a gift opportunity presented itself. Slaine hadn't ever really considered making his own tea, but now that the book was in front of him, he found the idea to be entirely appealing.

"Thanks Klancain. I'd like to try this out." Slaine stated, quite taken with the idea of blending flavors and spices and fruits together, just like he did in cooking.

He had already started to think of combinations that would work well together, or that would contrast well, when Klancain cleared his throat. Brought out of his musing, Slaine looked up at him. "Father really does want that picture though. You'd best get to it and just make him happy."

Slaine's lips formed a small oh, before his eyebrows furrowed, and he looked at the art supplies again. "I can't just send them tea?" He asked, knowing very well what the answer would be.

"Fraid not." Klancain shrugged. "Who knows, maybe you'll like it."

Slaine sighed in exasperation. "I doubt that."


	5. Bubbles

Klancain liked bubble baths. This was something Slaine had previously been unaware of. In their home with the elder Cruhteo's, they'd both had their own separate bathrooms, and thus knew very little of each other's actual bathing habits. They'd both agreed it was better that way. Growing up, Slaine had always been in hotel rooms, or small apartments, or in guest bedrooms, so he had always shared a bathroom with his father. Suddenly having his own space, room and bathroom included, were baffling concepts that at first he had hated. Eventually he adapted to the idea. It had been hard at first, because even if they hadn't spoken, it had been nice to inhabit the same space as his father. He'd read or draw quietly while his father worked, and it hadn't been much, but it had been normal to have another breathing thing with him. The large empty spaces of the Cruhteo house had been horrible in comparison at first. It had taken a lot of time, and crying, and adjusting, to even imagine enjoying his own private space, but he did.

And once he had, he was hesitant to just go back to sharing. The bathroom, especially so. He'd grown rather particular about his things, and he was positive that Klancain was even worse. He didn't often venture into Klancain's 'man cave' so to speak, other than the once a week cleaning he went in there to do. Klancain probably would have preferred that Slaine not go in there at all, but once a week, on Thursdays, he left the door open, with the expectation that Slaine was going to clean it. Klancain was a spoiled brat, always had been, but he paid for just about everything, so Slaine simply went about the housework as was the unspoken rule. Some days he felt a little like Cinderella, and then Tharsis would start singing, and the image was really too much for him to handle.

But even with that, the bathroom door to Klancain's master suite always remained closed. It was one of the only bits of housework that Slaine didn't do. Klancain was kind of in charge of his own bathroom. But that fateful day, the door had been open. It could not have been an accident, it was a Thursday. Klancain actually expected him to clean his bathroom. The worst part, was that Slaine did it, grumbling and mumbling and eyeing the huge expensive tub in Klancain's room.

But that was when he found it. It, being an expensive looking purple bottle of lavender scented women's spa bubble bath. It had been hidden in a nook by the side of the tub, out of obvious view, as if Klancain didn't want any girls he brought over to see it, or brothers cleaning, as it were.

Not really sure what to make of it, Slaine sat himself on the edge of the tub, and eyed the thing suspiciously before picking it up, and inspecting it more thoroughly. It had a picture of pretty lavender flowers, and the sensual hand of a woman, holding a foamy bit of bubbles, with her lips extended in some sort of a faux kiss. He thought about all the times Klancain had casually made fun of him for his rose scented body washes, and scowled. Lavender was just as bad, and it was a damn bubble bath! The more Slaine thought of it, the more it wasn't fair at all.

He made up his mind right then and there to hide it. He wanted to see the look on Klancain's face when he had to go looking for it, and how flustered he would get when he couldn't just ask Slaine were it was, like he always did with everything else.

It seemed like a perfect plot, because Klancain was notorious for losing things. He'd put them down anywhere, and expected them to just be where they were supposed to be. Slaine figured that came from having a live in maid for a large part of his life, but that led him to the fact that Klancain sort of still DID have a live in maid, and then Tharsis would start singing again and it just made Slaine sour to think about.

The plan worked pretty well, actually. A few days later, Slaine was minding his own business, reading in the living room. Having forgotten that he'd hid the stuff under his bed, he was surprised when Klancain burst out of his bedroom. "Slaine, have you seen-" his younger paused. Slaine could hear the water heater going, and figured that Klancain was probably filling up a bath at that exact moment. It then struck him exactly what Klancain was going to ask about, and Slain quickly schooled his face into something impassive and inquisitive.

"What is it?" Slaine asked, letting nothing of his internal amusement show.

Klancain took one look at him, blushed faintly, and then shook his head. "Nothing. It's nothing. Never mind." He stated, then stalked back to his bedroom. Slaine thought about pursuing, but instead shrugged, and continued reading his book. Three minutes later, Klancain was back, and looking more disgruntled than before.

Slaine looked up. "Didn't find what you were looking for?" He asked, knowing full well that he had not. Klancain eyed him a little suspiciously for a few seconds, but that could mean just about anything. Slaine didn't let his mask fall.

"My bath stuff." Klancain finally said, obviously choosing the vaguest words he could.

"Oh" Slaine said, pretending to think about it for a little while. "I cleaned your bathroom on Thursday, since you left the door open. I didn't know where anything went, so I tried to put everything back where I found it. Do you want my help?"

The absolute puzzlement on Klancain's face was uncharacteristic, and far more entertaining that Slaine would have admitted. "I left the bathroom door open on Thursday?" Klancain said incredulously.

Slaine frowned. "You didn't even notice I'd cleaned?"

Klancain looked quite ruffled. "I usually clean it on Tuesdays, so it wasn't that dirty..." His younger brother mumbled, before straightening up. "Did you-" Then Klancain stopped again, and that slight blush was tinting his cheeks, as his eyes narrowed.

Slaine shook his head. "I didn't try to move anything around too much. Do you want my help looking?"

The answer was yes, and it was written all over Klancain's pink face, but he didn't say anything. Instead, Klancain shook his head. "No, that's alright. I'm sure I'll find it..." Klancain eyed him suspiciously, before stalking back to his bedroom. Only once he was gone did Slaine allow the smile on his face to spread. His shoulders quivered at keeping in his laughter, but Klancain might hear him and that would give it all away.

He waited for a few seconds, letting his amusement at this situation show, before getting off the couch, putting his book down and heading towards Klancain's closed door. He quickly schooled his face back into concern, and knocked. "Klan, are you sure you don't want me to help?"

"No, no that's okay." Came the muffled, irritated answer from the other side of the doorway. The water to the tub had been turned off at this point, and he could almost hear his younger brother fumbling around.

"What was it again?" Slaine asked innocently. "Maybe I saw it while I was cleaning a few days ago."

There was a few seconds of hesitation, before Klancain said "Bath stuff."

Slaine knew he was pushing his luck, Klancain was probably already suspected him, but he couldn't resist. "What kind of bath stuff? That's a little vague."

"Just..." There was an audible pause, and then he could hear Klancain's feet padding over to the door. Then it was open, and Slaine was looking on his normally vtey composed younger brother, who was quite uncomposed. "Just some stuff for baths." He answered lamely.

Slaine frowned. "You've gotta give me more than that. You have a lot of primpy junk in there."

Klancain's eyes narrowed. "It's purple." Oh, the jig was up, but Slaine was going to play it out to the end anyway.

Slaine looked at Klancain in confusion. "Purple?" He pretended to think. "Oh! Oh I do remember something. It was sorta by tub right? What was it again...?"

Klancain's face went bright red. "I knew it! Where did you put it!?"

"What!?" Slaine asked innocently. "I don't even remember where it is. What is it that you're looking for Klan?"

Klancain's nostrils flared, and lips were set in a distinct pout. "My, bubblebath!" He gritted out.

"Oh yeah, you're right. That is what it was, wasn't it?" Slaine smiled, and shifted his voice an octave higher. "Women's luxurious lavender scented spa quality bubble bath, for fair, silky skin."

Klancain reached for him, -probably to shake him- but Slaine danced away from his hands, laughing loudly. Tharsis squawked at them from the hallway as a Klancain's feet pounded after him in pursuit. "What was that I'm always hearing about my rose scented shower gel?"Slaine chimed, as he raced down the hall, Klancain hot on his trail.

"Slaine, give it back! It's mine! You weren't suppose to clean my bathroom!"

"Just like I'm not suppose to know where your light up condoms are?" Slaine asked as he turned to see the blaze on Klancain's face before going into his own bed room.

"That was once!" Klancain bellowed from the hall way. Slaine had just enough time to retrieve the bottle, before Klancain was in his doorway, heaving. He then quickly crossed the room, and swiped the bottle away from Slaine's hands before stalking off.

"Enjoy your bath Klan!" Slaine cackled behind him, unable to stop laughing.

\/

A few weeks later, Slaine stole back into Klancain's bathroom, and took the bottle again. This time, with the intent of trying it out himself. He'd never had a bubble bath before.

From then on, it was quite common for Klancain to find his bubble bath missing. Until one day, a mysterious rose scented one appeared in Slaine's bathroom.

They never spoke of it again.


	6. Cocoa

The dim light of the flashlight in his hand flickered a bit, and Slaine glared down at it before whacking the thing a few times. For some odd reason, the dim beam of light stabilized. Slaine shrugged, and kept walking down the hall. He could hear Klancain still muttering to himself from the guest bedroom, over the aggressive din of the rain and wind pelting the roof of the house, but Slaine rolled his eyes, and kept going. He made his way to the kitchen, and shone the light around, until he found glistening tea kettle he was looking for. He padded over to it, rubbing at his arms, and trying not to notice how he could see his own breath. He quickly filled the kettle, and placed it on the burner, before lighting the gas stove. He watched the flames ripple in the darkness for a few moments, content at its warmth and the glow, and the flowing motion of its flames.

Then there was a huge flash of light and an enormous blast of thunder that made him jump, and almost catch his shirt on fire. Slaine quickly scurried back away from the burner, and fumbled his way to the kitchen cabinet. He opened it, and then peered inside, trying to make out what was what from the dim beam of the flashlight. It was not as easy as he would have hoped, but after a few moments, he noticed what he was looking for, and grabbed the two boxes in question.

Next came two mugs, two spoons, and one very pretty lotus flower tea infuser, which he filled with a combination of lemon tea, with a bit of ginger spice as well. He fumbled the two teas back into the cabinet -it was a real pain only working with one hand, but he was managing- and reached for third little box. He spooned out a bit of cocoa mix into the second mug, and then placed that box back into the cabinet as well.

He then leaned down to fish out a small bowl from the lower cabinet, and set it down on the kitchen counter before retrieving a small whisk from one of the drawers. He then ambled over to the fridge as another bang of thunder erupted, shaking the whole house. Slaine looked up, as if expecting another one, but nothing happened. The rain and wind continued to assault the house, and Slaine shivered before returning to his task.

Slaine made a point of being as quick as possible retrieving the milk from the fridge, pouring it into the small bowl, and then returning it to the fridge. Considering he only used one hand for all of this, and didn't spill any milk, he was rather pleased at how little time it took.

He then set about whisking the milk, until it was nice and frothy. It was at that point that the kettle started to shudder, so he stopped his whisking, and moved back over to the burner. Slaine then turned off the flame, and poured the water into the first mug, with the tea infuser, before placing it back onto the burner.

The frothy milk then went into the cup with the cocoa, and more hot water came after that. He had to fumble back into the cabinet, but he retrieved the small bottle of vanilla extract, and the much larger bottle of honey, which went into the cocoa, and the tea respectively, before being placed back into the cabinet. Then came a dash more of milk, some sugar, a bit of stirring on his part, and he was quite ready to be back in the guest bedroom.

With a bit of difficulty, Slaine managed to grasp both mugs in one hand, and carefully started walking out of the kitchen, and back down the hall. A flash of lighting hit, but Slaine kept himself steady so as not to spill either drink.

Once he'd reached the door of the guest bedroom, he lightly nudged the door with his foot enough to make a knocking sound. From inside he could hear Klancain's irritated mutterings, as he hoisted himself off the guest bed, and thumped his way to the door. It swung open, and Slaine clicked off the flashlight as Klancain took the offered cup of hot cocoa.

They'd decked out the guest bedroom with all the spare scented candles that Slaine had a compulsion for buying, and a menagerie of them were lit all around the room. It wasn't quite bright enough for reading, but it was more than enough to see where he was going without need of the flashlight. It had been entirely unplanned, but as it turned out, their guest bedroom was well equipped for a power outage, and the various candles helped to make the room warmer too, as long as they kept the door closed.

As Slaine padded inside the room, Klancain shut the door behind him, and wandered back to the bed, tossing a pouty 'thank you' over his shoulder. Slaine gave an irritated look, before wandering over to a comfortable plush chair in the room, and sitting down.

He watched as Klancain set down the hot cocoa on the bedside table, crawled onto the bed, and wrapped himself up in the blanket before going for the hot cocoa again. He still looked generally disgruntled, and unhappy. "There are no marshmallows." He stated in accusation, looking down at the cup of hot cocoa as if it had offended him in some way.

Slaine rolled his eyes. "You are such a spoiled brat. Get your own marshmallows." The only response he got was Klancain groaning to himself in distaste, before he took a sip, blinked, then took another.

A few seconds later, Klancain looked up at him, and the light of the small flames around the room seemed to dance as they reflected in his eyes. "I said you could just use instant."

Slaine nursed his lemon tea, content at how much warmer it seemed in the guest bedroom compared to the rest of the house. He was sure he'd be cold again, just like Klancain, and clambering to get under the blankets too, but for now, he was just content to sit in a warmer place, and drink his nice warm tea. "Did I hear someone say something about marshmallows a minute ago, or was I hearing things, Mister Priss?"

Klancain glared at him from across the room, but swished his hot cocoa happily. "I hate that nickname..."

Slaine took another small sip of his tea. "But it suits you so well."

"You don't have to spoil me." The statement was surprisingly serious, and Slaine blinked away from the warm mug in front of him, and looked over at Klancain. His younger brother was looking down at the mug in his hands, moving ever so slightly, so that the warm liquid inside would shift around. From where Slaine sat, it sounded like he had something else to say, so Slaine waited, but nothing was forth coming. Klancain just continued to gaze furtively into his drink.

Eventually Slaine got tired of waiting, and shrugged. "If I didn't spoil you, you'd just find someone else that would." Klancain's blue eyes were on him then, and he could feel they were hot and angry. Slaine cocked his head just a tad. "At some point, you'll get married, and your wife will spoil you. Then you'll have kids, and you'll have to spoil them for awhile, but after that, they'll spoil you too." Slaine took a sip of his tea, without taking his eyes off of Klancain. "And if you haven't noticed, I like being needed. My wife is probably going to be like you, spoiled and selfish, and you probably aren't going to like her at all because of it."

Klancain looked contemplative for a few seconds, before he wrinkled up his face in disgust. "You're supposed to marry someone like your mom, not like your brother. Gross."

Slaine frowned back at his younger brother, but the statement 'I don't know my mother' died on his lips, and he thought better of it. "You're like mother, so it isn't so strange. She's spoiled, and gets everything she wants too."

"Except for you to come home at Christmas." Klancain chimed in, just to be petulant.

Slaine puckered his brow before responding. "The point is, that you will probably always be taken care of, one way or another, so there's no reason for me to stop now." Slaine sipped his tea. "But since you're offering, you can get me another cup of tea, and clean the dishes when the power comes back on."

The groan he got in response to that, was rather satisfying.


	7. Rain

AN: This one is for stellar24, who requested Rain! Thank you for the prompt!

\/

Rainy days were one of Slaine's favorite types of days. There were a variety of reasons for this, but the main one, was that he sort of stopped his schedule for rainy days. They were perfect for sitting out on the back porch, under the overhang of the roof, in a wicker chair with plush cushions, with a pot of tea on the small side table, and a book in hand. This was Slaine's ideal rainy day, and he loved it. There was something inherently calming about the sound rain made, the chill in the air, the warmth and aroma of the tea, and the cloudy light, that made all of it picturesque and ideal. Slaine adored this, and rarely did much on rainy days because of it. Housework waited, and unless appointments were dire, he didn't go to them. Most of the days off that Slaine took, were rainy days where he could just curl up with a good book, and forget the world existed around him, except for the pitter patter of the rain, and the warm cup of tea in his hand.

The ironic part of all this, was a decent amount of these same things, was exactly why Klancain didn't like rainy days. They were boring, there was nothing to do, and after a few days of rain, the house started to look like a sty. Not to mention that Slaine just sat out there all day doing nothing, with his nose stuck in some book. It was boring, and it was like he lived alone. Klancain disliked it immensely.

There was also to consider, that Klancain didn't like getting wet very much. Slaine likened him to a cat in that way, and teased him about it on regular intervals, but the fact of the matter was that Klancain would wait out rain instead of venturing out in it, or even getting close to it.

So, it was very surprising when after two hours out on the porch, Klancain poked his head out of the sliding glass door, and angled Slaine with an inquisitive look. Slaine ignored him, because he was at a particularly interesting chapter, but as usual Klancain refused to be ignored, he just stood there, his head comically sticking out of the door, and waited for Slaine to pay attention to him. When that didn't happen, he huffed to himself, and tried a different tactic. "Slaine" he said, in a less than demanding tone.

Slaine sighed, and looked up at his younger brother. "What?"

"Do you want to play video games?" Slaine gave Klancain an irritated look, before turning back to his book. Klancain didn't even really enjoy video games, they were just something to do to waste time for him.

"No." Slaine answered, already reading again.

Klancain was not perturbed. "Want to watch a movie?" Klancain wasn't really all that fond of movies either. Maybe it was just the elitist gene talking, but he was exceptionally picky about them. Slaine called him a movie snob on a regular basis.

Slaine did not look up from his book. "No."

He could tell Klancain was pouting at him. "What do you want to do?"

"Read my book." Slaine answered simply. He was sure that got a frown and a glare, but Klancain retracted his head, and closed the sliding glass door. Slaine was once again alone with his book, his tea, and the rain.

But that only lasted about ten minutes. After said ten minutes, Klancain came wandering out of the sliding glass door, looking rather ruffled. Irritated at being interrupted again, Slaine glared up at him. "What?"

Klancain huffed. "I brought more warm water for your tea." Klancain held up the electric kettle, and shook it for emphasis. He then wandered over to Slaine's tea pot, and filled it up. He then strode back into the house, as Slaine watched the whole time. Once he was gone again, Slaine shook his head, dispelling the strange behavior, and went back to reading.

That lasted two minutes, then Klancain was again, fumbling out the door mindful of any drips or puddles, so that he wouldn't accidentally get wet. Slaine huffed out of his nose and looked up at Klancain again. "What is it now?"

Klancain scowled back, and held up a quilt. "It's cold out here. I brought this for you." Klancain unceremoniously flung the item at Slaine, who struggled to catch it, and not lose his place in his book. He failed on one count, and glared at the book, trying to remember what page he'd been on.

"Thank you Klancain, I'm fine now." Slaine stated, trying to be as pleasant as an interrupted person was to the one that had interrupted him.

Klancain shrugged nonchalantly, and wandered back inside. Slaine took the opportunity to put the book down, and spread it out so that it comfortably covered his legs and torso, without hindering the movements of his hands. If Slaine was being honest, the warm water for the tea, and the blanket were both very thoughtful and nice. That didn't change the fact that Klancain kept interrupting his reading! With him gone again, Slaine sunk back into the wicker chair, and tried to figure out where he'd left off.

It took him a while, but eventually he found the paragraph, and started reading again. Klancain came back around that time. Slaine sighed in exasperation. "What is it now?"

"Cookies." Klancain said in irritation. He motioned with his head down to a tea tray now heaped with cookies, in a rather childish manner. Did he just upturn the box onto it? Slaine figured he probably had. "I brought you cookie to snack on."

Slaine closed his eyes, so it wasn't as obvious he was rolling them, and motioned to the little table where his tea was. "Thank you Klancain." He managed to say grudgingly. "You can put them right there."

Klancain did as instructed, and gently set the tray of cookies down onto the side table, before departing again. This time, Slaine put the book marker in his book, and waited. He knew very well that Klancain would be back, so he took the time to watch as the rain fell, and the shifting patterns of the cloud above them.

As predicted, Klancain came back three minutes later, this time, sporting one of Slaine's sweaters, which he offered to his older brother. "It's cold out here." He muttered, as Slaine looked at him in accusation.

Klancain was on his way to slink back inside, when Slaine held up one finger. "One hour, Klancain. Then, I'll come in, and we'll do something. But once we're done, I get to read again. Deal?"

"Deal!" Klancain stated, dashing back into the house with renewed vigor. Slaine watched him go for a few seconds, before reaching down for his book, and starting to read again. He was almost done, he should be able to finish it within that time limit.


End file.
